


A Specter-Ross-Wilson Christmas

by SuzyQSmilesForYou



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gaming Dorks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzyQSmilesForYou/pseuds/SuzyQSmilesForYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Take a break from recycling wrapping paper and scrubbing dishes for New Year's and enjoy this silly fluff.</p><p>Oh, and just as a disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Super Smash Bros. or the Ace Attorney series, or the rights to the games themselves. I just mentioned them for the sake of fun.</p></blockquote>





	A Specter-Ross-Wilson Christmas

“It needs a tad more pepper,” Harvey informed as he set the tasting spoon down in the sink.

“At least we have all the ingredients we need,” Yolanda nodded thoughtfully. “Knowing your brother, I’d figured we’d be left to fix dinner with nothing but ketchup packets and a pile of sprouted spuds.”

“We have your sister to thank for that, although I think the knucklehead would have stocked up on food, anyway. He’s still pretty scrawny from that all-gruel diet.”

“Why, Harvey, it almost sounds as if you care about your brother.”

“Just don’t tell him that.”

“You can try to shut that barn door, but I don’t think it’ll do you much good now,” Yolanda teased as she inspected the lamb chops and the duck in the double oven.

“Ugh, why do younger siblings have to be such loveable little shits?”

“Because we’re too busy being awesome to micromanage them. You keep prepping those sweet potatoes; I’m going to tell Phil and Wendy to shut off _Game of Thrones_ before Mike’s grandmother and her friends get here – we don’t need any heart attacks.”

Neal had done a good job finding Marcus his place here with June, although when he’d said it was “just off the Park” he’d been a little generous. They were in Park Slope only in the loosest sense of the neighborhood, and Harvey was getting nervous about how much the tap water here had in common with Gowanus’ a block away.

He’d already bought his little brother a new Brita; getting him to change the filters regularly would be the hard part.

“Bro, can we get a hand?”

Marcus peeked out from behind the corner in the walls, the top of his _Brony 4 Life_ t-shirt barely visible…Harvey would never be caught dead with him wearing that if he could help it.

“I’m a little busy cooking, _bro_. Y’know, the way you made me co-chef even after you had me haul all of your junk in here – when I could’ve just paid a moving company to help, like sane adults do.”

“Can the lecture, cranky. I only need you for a second: June and I want to get the leaves on the dining table so we can fit everybody.”

“Fine,” Harvey groaned, setting down the tray of sweet potatoes to step out into the entry room where June was waiting.

“Thank you so much, Harvey,” the gray-haired woman uttered without a hint of sarcasm. She’d been a fashion model in the Seventies, Marcus had told him, and though her skin had wrinkled in spots she still had the aura of a star and the patience of a saint. She’d have to if she could stand to have the brunet’s brother as a sublessee.

“It’s no problem,” Harvey replied, hoisting up one end of the first mahogany plank as his brother did the same with the other. “We should thank you for agreeing to let us all come over to-”

“Oh, nonsense,” the older woman assured, pushing the sliding door out of the way completely as the brothers made their way toward the table. “I’d usually be in Florida this time of year, but my snowbird friends are stuck in Seattle with business. I don’t mind the cold if it means I get to make new friends at Christmas.”

“Don’t bother trying to instill morals in my brother, June – he’s a lawyer.”

Harvey shot his shitty little brother a death glare, resisting the urge to drop the leaf on his brother’s fingers by a hair.

“He’s only upset because Franklin loves you more than him,” Wendy observed from the couch. The cat in question jumped from her side and stalked toward the brunet, following his verbal cues.

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you like me, Franklin?”

Harvey smirked as he scooped up the willing feline and rubbed his head.

“You even let him carry you?!” Marcus cried, shocked.

“Mrrrreeeeeeeowwwrrr.”

“Don’t be too offended, bro. There are plenty of cats in the world; the fact that the coolest, most confident one ignores you isn’t so bad…then again, I guess it is.”

“We need to put the other leaf on the table,” Harvey’s brother reminded glumly, clearly crushed by Franklin’s rejection. He disappeared into the hallway with his eyes glued to the floor.

“When I let you down,” the brunet whispered as he strode back towards the entry, “I want you to give Markers a chance.”

“Mrreeawrr.”

“I know, I know. Just humor me, okay?”

“Mrrrreeeaaaaawwr.”

Harvey knew Franklin couldn’t understand his request, so he opted for the one word the cat seemed to grasp.

“Yankees?”

“Meow.”

A knock at the door delayed Harvey’s plan, though, and when his little brother opened it they were greeted by the three women from the care facility. Mike was there, too; he must have been wearing a sweater he or Edith had made, as it featured a baby panda riding a reindeer.

“Guests of June’s Estate, it is my pleasure to announce that you are now in the esteemed company of a trio of ladies of good repute and fine temperament,” the blond associate declared, adjusting his Santa hat.

“Michael, really…was that necessary?”

“Grammy, I was just trying to be gallant.”

“Stick to what you know, kiddo,” Mike’s grandmother advised as the other guests assembled to greet them. “Now if you want to be helpful, introduce us to everyone – _normally_.”

“Well, you’ve already met Harvey Specter and Wendy Wilson, Grammy,” Mike started, waiting for handshakes only to realize the women’s hands were occupied. “And that’s Harvey’s brother, Marcus, and Wendy’s sister, Yolanda. And I haven’t met this guy in person yet, but I do believe you’re Wendy’s older brother, Phil?”

“Yup,” the bald man nodded. “Wait, she talks about me at the office?”

“Uhhh…only good things.”

“Yeah, right,” Yolanda chuckled, taking her junior siblings by their shoulders. “Good effort, Mike, but there’s no way that’s true.”

“Err…umm, well this is Rebecca Badowski and this is Mildred Walsh. And this is Edith Ross, but I just call her ‘Grammy’.”

“And I’m June Davis. Welcome, ladies,” a figure announced from the stairs. “I’ve got the mahjong tiles set upstairs in the sun room. I figure we can get to know each other while we play.”

“Those words are heaven to my ears,” Mildred sang, slipping past Mike. “C’mon, girls, let’s put these desserts in the fridge and get to the action. I can’t wait to kong-quer all of you.”

“Ooh, that was cringe-inducingly awful, Millie,” Rebecca shivered as Yolanda helped her and her friends find the kitchen.

“You get here okay?” Marcus asked Mike, taking the boxes of presents from him.

“Yeah, we just had to be careful because of the snow. I didn’t want anyone to slip and fall.”

“Mreeeaaaawrr.”

“Hey, Franklin,” Mike greeted the cat still in Harvey’s arms, petting the top of his head.

“Not fair, Franklin!” Marcus cried, dejection once again apparent in his voice. “You let every dude in this house but me play with you!”

Rolling his eyes, Harvey set Franklin down on the floor. Shockingly, the feline darted toward Harvey’s little brother, proceeding to nuzzle himself against the doctor’s (ragged) jeans.

“Franklin! You do like me after all!”

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” Harvey observed dryly.

“The real miracle will be when someone finishes baking these sweet potatoes,” Yolanda called from the kitchen.

“And puts the other leaf on the table,” June added with a chuckle from halfway up the stairs.

“C’mon, Mike: you heard the ladies.”

“But I just got here,” his boyfriend whined. “Can I just sit on the couch for a bit instead?”

“There’s a glass of eggnog in it for you if you help me.”

“…Deal.”

\-----

“This spread is insane,” Mike gawked as his boyfriend retrieved an apron for him from the pantry. (Harvey was wearing one with a floral pattern – almost certainly out of necessity.) “Grammy and I usually just cooked some chicken and maybe a pumpkin pie and ate it in my apartment.”

“Underneath that twisted metal Christmas tree?”

“That fake Christmas tree’s helped the Ross family celebrate for almost sixty years.”

“Hence why you made me put it up next to the real one I bought?”

“Yup. It wouldn’t feel right without a little rust and chipped paint,” Mike nodded as Harvey returned to his previous task. “So what do you need me to do?”

“We need to baste the duck again.”

“I’m on it.”

“And keep an eye out for Franklin. Wendy’s been keeping him occupied, but every time we open that oven door he starts to wander over here.”

“Poor guy. Is he at least getting some Fancy Feast?”

“Please, as if any of us could stand to watch him suffer through that. Yolanda’s going to heat up a slice of turkey I bought at the store for him.”

“You’ve really changed your tune on that cat, Harvey.”

“Rule number one: always acknowledge a fellow badass. And that cat is a total bada-”

“Gentleman?” Grammy cut in from the doorway.

“Edith,” Harvey turned immediately. “Is there something we can do for you?”

“The girls and I need some libations, and I had the idea of Mamie Taylors; June said there should be some cheap and dirty Scotch in the liquor cabinet.”

“Grammy! It’s not even two in the afternoon yet!”

“Quiet, Mike. A woman who asks for Scotch, even the cheap stuff, is a woman who deserves respect.”

“But what about your medications?”

“None of them conflict with alcohol – I checked. How else do you think we’d get through bridge championships at the care center?”

“I think I might need to have a word with your nurse.”

“Less talking, more basting,” Harvey corrected, setting four glasses down on one of the few spots of open counter space. “I’ve got the Scotch and lime juice taken care of. Would you pour the ginger ale, Edith?”

“Gladly.”

“Here, I’ll help you take these up there. Mike, you’re in charge of the kitchen while I’m gone.”

The blond rolled his eyes as they left. He was glad Harvey and Grammy were on good terms with each other, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted those terms to be quite so good.

“I think that duck’s plenty hydrated, Mike,” Yolanda quipped as she returned from the main room.

“Huh…oh!”

“Harvey and I should be alright in here on our own.”

“Are you firing me as sous chef? He told me to help him out…”

“I think he just wanted to teach you how to cook the fancy stuff. Tell you what, why don’t you grab Phil and Marcus and set the table? That way, we’ll be ready to eat once we’re done opening presents and the meat’s cooked; plus, you can get to know my little brother.”

“Okay, but it’s on you when Harvey asks why I left.”

“Harvey Specter listens to three women: Jessica, Donna, and me. Now skedaddle already.”

Mike nodded and obeyed the command. He wanted to ask the woman making the gravy some questions about what Harvey was like when she first knew him, but didn’t want to get on her bad side if she was fearsome enough to scare the best damn closer in the city.

“Hey guys, would you give me a hand set-”

“Setting the table, yup, we’re on it,” Marcus predicted as he rose from the couch. “The plates and silverware are all in that cabinet, but we need to wash our hands.”

“Y’know, Mike, I’ve grown to hate those hats after enduring so many Santacons, but it doesn’t look half bad on you.”

“Thanks, boss lady. Hey, why aren’t you helping in the kitchen?”

“Numbers, names, and notations I can handle. But cooking has never been my forte,” Wendy asked as she rubbed her pet’s back. Besides, when else am I going to have time to sit back and enjoy _Hot Shots_?”

“Charlie Sheen as a parody of Tom Cruise in _Top Gun_ , _Hot Shots_?!”

“Yup. We were watching _Game of Thrones_ , but I suppose that was a bit incongruous with the holiday theme.”

“Have you gotten to the purple wedding yet?”

“Oh my god, that was so satisfying,” Mike’s boss’ assistant emoted, before reenacting it, complete with gruesome death noises. It made the blond wonder if she and Jessica acted this way when they were alone at work.

“Alright, we’re ready to help,” Marcus startled Mike as he returned to the main room. “I’ll take placemats and napkins, you grab plates and glasses and Phil gets flatware.”

“So, Mike…what exactly has my sis said about me?” the latter man asked as he opened one of the cabinet’s drawers.

“Nuh uh, _brotha_ ,” Wendy cried petulantly from the couch. “Mike’s a lawyer, hence he’s bound by confidentiality.”

“He’s not your attorney, _sista_.”

“Well, she did say that you’re pretty smart.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Mike. I know Wendy would never say that.”

“Actually, I did say that. After all, not just anyone can become a CPA.”

“Hold up, you’re an accountant?” Mike pressed. “Dude, can I get you to do my taxes for me? Do you know all the tricks to avoid paying anything?”

“My brother is not going to jail for having aided you in dodging payment on however many pennies it is you owe the government, Mike.”

“I make a little more than pennies, boss la-”

“I’ve seen your paycheck, blondie-”

“Hey, that’s forbidden in the bylaws!”

“I’m in charge of emailing the bonus list to HR to print up the checks, genius. Anyway, you make decent bank for an associate, but it’s hardly Cayman Islands money.”

“There are plenty of crooked accountants,” Phil laughed as he examined various mismatching forks. “They do pretty well until they get caught, which doesn’t take too long. Moreover, big sis wouldn’t let me in the building if she thought I was up to something shady.”

“You guys live together?”

“We’re a close-knit family,” Wendy explained.

“Our family’s been in Harlem since before the Renaissance and Langston Hughes. We just purchased the building after nearly a century of renting, and just in time, too.”

“You mean all the gentrification?”

“Bingo,” the younger Wilson siblings responded in unison.

“Yolanda’s got the café on the first and second floors, and we all above it. It’s a pretty cozy setup, don’t you think?” Wendy asked with a grin on her face. “…Even if we do sometimes nearly rip each other’s heads off.”

“That’s only every other week,” Phil informed with a hand obscuring his mouth. “Well, maybe more like once a month, if you catch my-”

“No PMS jokes!” his younger sister scolded.

“Yeah!” the oldest sibling added from the kitchen. “Keep it up and I’ll take back my present before you can open it.”

\-----

“Edie, I’m convinced you were cheating!” Mildred laughed as she sat back in one of the armchairs by the tree. “How did you know what pieces I had?”

“It’s simple, Millie: you line them all up in neat rows. You really need to learn to jumble them,” Edith answered as her grandson began distributing presents to the assembled group.

“The important thing is, I won for once,” Becca sighed.

Edith wasn’t going to tell her friend that June had probably thrown the third game so that everyone could win one. It was Christmas, after all.

“Here you go, Grammy. It’s from Wendy…wait, am I going to like this?”

“Probably not,” the assistant reasoned. “But Jessica should get a kick out of it when I relay the story to her next Monday.”

“Be sure to grab one for yourself, Michael. There – that big box over there is from me; why don’t you open it first?”

“Sweet!”

“This feels a little light, bro,” Marcus grumbled as he shook the enormous box in his hands. “It had better not be another one of your expired credit cards.”

Harvey snickered as he carefully slid his finger along the exposed flap of wrapping paper. Edith liked the man, though she got the sense he and his brother had a history of being obnoxious to one another - on that front, at least, she was glad Mike was an only child.

“ _100 Office Pranks for ‘That One’ Co-Worker_ …?” Wendy recited, confused. “Who exactly is supposed to be the target for these?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he answered with another question. “Donna’s against the idea, but I told her a few antics build camaraderie.”

“I’ll only use these on him if he really gets on my nerves,” the assistant resolved. “And I trust that you two and Mike will keep my involvement a secret?”

“He still doesn’t know that I was the one stealing his yoghurt.”

“That was you?!”

“Huh, I guess only Jessica figured it out…”

“Grammy, you’re the best!” Mike interrupted, apparently unaware of ongoing conversation. “Three pairs of Chucks and a new kit of everything I need to maintenance my bike; man you even tossed in a new cycling jacket?! When did you get out to buy these?”

“Oh, Donna and I went together while she was picking up Harvey’s gifts, but I was the one who wrapped it,” Edith bragged. “If you don’t like the tie-dye pair, you can return it.”

“Are you kidding?- they’re my favorite!”

“Okay, bro – I stand corrected. This is a new low,” Marcus growled. “The only thing buried in this sea of packing peanuts is René’s business card.”

“Your present is at his shop, dummy.”

“You bought me a suit?”

“Even better: you can have three suits made up to your specifications and he’ll send me the bill,” the older brother explained. “But so help me, Marcus, if you try to force that man to make you a purple pimp suit, I’ll force you to go to the ballet with Louis.”

“Just so we’re clear, a non-pimping purple suit is okay, right?”

At that, the older Specter glared at his little brother’s poor joke.

“Check the bottom of the box. There’s something else in there.”

“Ooooh, would you look at this Mike,” Edith cooed. “Wendy gave me a framed photo of you sleeping at work…is this that infamous file room you’ve told me about?”

“You couldn’t have picked a more flattering pose?”

“Where would the fun in that be?” Jessica’s assistant countered with a smirk. “This way, whenever you see her and your ego’s getting too big, she can shame you back to size.”

“Gee, thanks, boss lady.”

“A gym membership?” Marcus began anew.

“And it’s right by your new workplace, so you’ve got no excuses for skipping out on exercise. I would’ve gotten you a membership to Nick’s, but you hate boxing.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“Just the opposite, bro. Right now you look like you couldn’t even pitch a single fastball. Wait, what is this?” the brunet asked as he freed some kind of electronic device from a cloud of tissue paper.

“Welcome to the digital age, Harvey. No more need for CDs or cassettes,” his brother jabbed.

“I got rid of all my cassettes a decade ago. My point is: when am I supposed to use this? I listen to records at work and at home, and Ray listens to music with me in the car.”

“One, Ray’s getting a new car with a USB jack. Two, you can listen to dad’s music when you go running.”

“I guess so- hold up, I never digiwhamatzitized any of dad’s stuff.”

“Merry Christmas, bro. Go into the music section and check it out – I got everything on there.”

“…How?”

“Mike ran interference with a certain project you discovered, so I guess you didn’t notice when he took the tapes to an IT buddy who transferred them over. Don’t worry, Mike put them back and they’re all fine.”

“So there’s a digital backup in case they break?”

“And I’ve got a safe-deposit box full of flash sticks, but that’s not the big picture. Here, lemme grab the other thing,” the blond Specter mumbled as he fumbled with his jeans pocket. “Ah, there it is. Read over this form, would you?”

“Perusing legal documents? Oh you really know how I like to celebrate Christmas, Marcus,” the brunet groaned. “…This is a waiver…of our royalty fees for dad’s music?”

“Now that there can be an infinite number of copies, I had the idea of giving dad’s stuff out to schools and local jazz acts to perform. We both know the last thing our old man would want is for all his creations to rot in storage.”

“You know what this means, right? We’ll have to listen to a thousand little seventh graders mangling his masterpieces.”

“Gotta break some eggs to make an omelette.”

“So be it,” Harvey grinned, scribbling his signature. “Thanks, Markers. I really mean it – this is one of the greatest presents you’ve ever given me.”

“And you think I’m nothing but a pain.”

“You are, most of the time.”

“Prove it.”

“Well, for starters, I’m assuming this ninety-nine cent enema kit laying on top of the…err, this doohickey…was supposed to be your gag gift for me? Did you think I’d flip out and embarrass myself when I saw it?”

“…Shut up and enjoy your real present,” Marcus ordered, red as a tomato.

“Why don’t we start on the next round of presents?” Millie shifted helpfully from behind a stack of books Becca had bought for her.

“Alright, Grammy, here’s my present for you.”

“Oh, Michael – you don’t have to get me anything. You’re already paying for my upkeep and you visit so often-”

“Just open it, Grammy. Now lezzee…Wendy, here’s one for you from Phil.”

“Hmm?”

“One for Harvey…from you, Grammy?”

“It’s nothing terrible, I promise,” Edith assured as she pulled on a piece of tape.

“I’m trusting you, Grammy,” her grandson needled as he handed the package to the brunet.

“I’ll dole out the rest of the goodies,” Marcus added as he stood up and walked to the tree. “I just wanted to make sure I saw Har Har’s reaction to our gift for him. In fact, here’s his gift to you, Mike.”

“Thanks.”

“A new scratching toy for Franklin?” Wendy asked her brother as she stared down into the box in her lap.

“And five coupons for nights where you want me to watch him. But look, it’s shaped like a rat!”

“Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrr,” Franklin hissed when his owner pulled the thing from its box.

“I don’t think he’ll have any reluctance to use it like he did with the other ones,” Wendy agreed, “but I don’t know how long it will last with the animosity he has for rodents…”

When Edith first saw him, Franklin didn’t look particularly athletic. But to her surprise, the chubby feline started aggressively swiping at the thing the moment his owner set it on the ground.

“Oh, Michael, this is too sweet,” Edith praised as she ran her hand over the knit blanket. “Did you make this?”

“Yup!”

“Do you take requests?” Becca asked, eyeing it carefully.

“I might be able to make a hat or something, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get another blanket done for a little while. Jessica promised a ton of work once the new year begins.”

“And he forgets to eat when he’s in the middle of a project,” Harvey warned. “I practically had to spoon feed him mac and cheese.”

“That’s not entirely true, Harvey,” Michael denied as he pulled the lid of his box open. “But since you got me the newest _Ace Attorney_ game, I’ll forgive you.”

“Wait, you’re a lawyer, but you play video games about being a lawyer?” Wendy asked. “Isn’t that…what’s the word you’ve used when talking to Jessica? ‘Meta’?”

“You wouldn’t understand. Apollo Justice and I are like brothers.”

“Psh, you’re more like Winston Payne,” Harvey commented…though Edith had no idea what either he or her grandson were talking about.

“Objection!” her grandson commanded. “I won’t be insulted by a Miles Edgeworth wannabe.”

“A, Miles Edgeworth wants to be me. B, even if the opposite were true, I’d still have these fantastic cufflinks – courtesy of Edith,” the brunet bragged, flashing the pair of miniature scales of justice she’d seen while shopping with Donna.

\-----

“What a meal,” Mike sighed after the final bite of cheesecake.

“I second that remark,” Marcus groaned. “And since it’s so early, there should be plenty of time for everything to digest before bed.”

“I’m glad you’re not upset about dining in the mid-afternoon,” Mildred smiled. “We old farts have to get back before curfew; beside that, we need to take our medications at the same time each day.”

“You want to trade pills and see if there are any good side-effects?”

“Grammy!”

“It was just a joke, Michael. I know you want me to hang around as long as possible, so I take extra care to not mix any of these up.”

“Good.”

“Don’t forget yours, bro,” Wendy reminded as she collected empty plates. “We don’t want you to suffer any irreparable damage.”

“Huh?”

“I have MS,” Phil explained as he retrieved a pill case from his coat. “You probably know that there’s no cure for it, and I can’t control when it flares up; still, as long as I get all the injections and take these meds for trigger illnesses it shouldn’t cause any permanent damage.”

“But I thought MS was more common in women. Shouldn’t Yolanda or Wendy have it?” Mike pressed.

“It’s not hereditary, but you’re right. I guess I just drew the short straw.”

“Not entirely. You’ve got two great sisters and Marcus here.”

“Yeah, he’s a good doctor…even if he is an obnoxious brother sometimes,” Harvey vouched.

“And the disease is part of the reason we live together,” Yolanda continued, ignoring the brothers rolling their eyes at each other. “Since there’s no warning, we need to be on hand to help out. Heck, even Franklin got in on the act.”

“He did?” Mike asked, turning his gaze to the feline still licking his plate clean.

“Yup, he got rid of all the flies in my bedroom after I got back from the hospital that one time. My body was still a bit sluggish, so I would’ve been eaten alive if it weren’t for him.”

“Wait, the first time you asked us to look after Franklin…?”

“Oh, I did go on vacation – sis made me use it. But Phil was in the hospital for some tests and Yolanda was rushing back and forth between there and the café.”

“Dude, I’m glad you’ve got everything under control…at least, as much as possible,” Mike expressed, throwing an arm around Phil.

“How kind of you, Mike,” Harvey judged. “I bet it would’ve sounded even nicer to him if you hadn’t called him ‘dude’ to begin with.”

“That’s only you, cranky.”

“Marcus, I’m warning you-”

“There’s only one way to clear up this kind of antagonism,” Phil observed. “Mike, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Definitely: it’s time for some _Super Smash Bros._ Here, lemme grab the extra controllers I brought over-”

“And I’ll set everything up. Eight of us can play, so I guess the better question is which two don’t mind sitting the first round out?”

“Edith, you seem like you might know what they’re talking about…” June suggested as Harvey and Marcus left the table to begin fishing things out.

“Oh, well it’s quite different from checkers, but the three of us have played it some when Mike visits. You can watch Millie, Becca, and I play and we’ll teach you what you need to know.”

“And I’ll pass on the first round,” Yolanda offered. “I want to soak these dishes before the stains get stuck in.”

~~~~~

“Wait, who’s Diddy Kong?” Mike cried.

“That’d be me,” Rebecca admitted triumphantly.

“And how am I losing?” Mike continued as he waited for his next life.

“I guess you just aren’t as good as you think you are. Or maybe it’s because you picked Ness,” Harvey remarked snidely as Peach floated back down to the stage after spiking Ganondorf.

“Did you have to take me out like that, bro?”

“You were picking on Mildred.”

“And I owe you one, Harvey,” the woman promised. Luigi, who had barely survived earlier, was now actively hunting a weakened Pikachu.

“And now you’re picking on me?!” Phil cried. “Man, I’m using a character I’m no good with, too.”

“We can tell that-”

“-from your Thunder spamming,” Mike and Marcus finished Harvey’s thought in unison. They might have remarked on the timing, but they were caught off guard by the appearance of something.

“Oh my god!” Wendy screamed.

“Final!”

“Smash!”

“Ball!”

Ness joined a single chaotic mass as Mike vied with all the other players to win the powerup, but got knocked back by Kirby (Wendy). Deciding he didn’t have a chance, the blond opted to retreat and search for items to defend himself.

“Almost got it!” Marcus shouted.

“It’s mine!” Harvey corrected as he tossed a vegetable at it.

There was a flash of light on the screen before…Mr. Game & Watch seized the ball?!

“Oh, no,” Harvey whimpered.

“Oh, yes,” Grammy nodded as her little stick-figure character transformed into an enormous octopus. “You guys have been doing an awful lot of bragging, but now it’s sink or swim time.”

“Save me, bro!” Marcus begged as Ganondorf desperately struggled to clear the reach of the jumbo mollusk. It was in vain, however.

“You can’t escape me, Michael.”

“Ahhhhhhhh!”

“You’re not getting away, either, Diddy.”

“No, no, nonononono! Noooooooo!”

Grammy managed to empty the stage just as the timer reached zero, so it wasn’t a surprise to see she had claimed first place. Still, Mike was having trouble admitting she could dominate him in checkers and SSB.

“And that’s how it’s played, June. What do you say, do you want to take my place for the next match?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are you still going to stick with Peach, Har Har?”

“Yup. I guess that means I’m not the one who’s insecure in his manhood, Markers.”

“Just for that, I’m going to pick Rosalina.”

“Isn’t that adorable? Two little princesses,” Yolanda quipped as she sat down in Wendy’s vacated spot. “Hmmm, I think I’ll pick Bowser and whoop both of your regal butts.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Markers?”

“Is team match okay with everybody else?”

“Yeah,” Yolanda agreed. “C’mon, bro: Wilsons versus Specters, 2014.”

“Versus two feisty lifelong friends,” Rebecca contributed.

“You ready, June?”

“I might not know what I’m doing, but I’ve got common sense and a whole lot of beginner’s luck.”

“That’s my motto, too,” Mike nodded.

“Minus the common sense,” Harvey smirked as the timer for the next match started.

\-----

Harvey had just finished listening to one of his father’s tracks when he heard the telltale sound of a key in the lock. He padded over and held the front door open as Mike waddled in with all of his presents.

“You got the three ladies of good repute home alright?”

“Mhmm,” the blond hummed as he set everything down and wiped his damp shoes on the mat.

There was still a little snow on his Santa hat, so Harvey snatched the thing off and shook it out over the sink.

“And I got a text from Wendy, so the Wilson family made back safe, too. Yolanda has already tried out her new toaster oven, and boss lady is teaching her older brother how to use the iron she bought for him.”

“And Franklin has destroyed his scratching post?”

“I’ll ask when work starts up again. Oh, and I have a surprise for you.”

“You know how I feel about surprises, babe. Especially after Team Specter got clobbered by Clan Ross - which I blame entirely on Markers.”

“That was pretty sweet, wasn't it? Anyway, you’re going to like this one,” Mike assured as he slotted his new footwear on the shoe rack. “It turns out Grammy made a ton of cookies, so she gave me an entire cake pan full of them.”

Harvey had to force himself not to drool at the thought of Edith’s baking.

“Fine, but only if you agree to work out with me tomorrow morning.”

“We might have a little trouble getting through the snowbanks, stud. There’s supposed to be another nine inches of the stuff coming down tonight.”

“There’s a mini gym on the seventh floor.”

“Ugh, fine. But only if you don’t wake us up at an ungodly hour.”

“Eight.”

“Deal. Now can we start exonerating defendants?”

“Definitely.”

Mike got out the cookies and poured two glasses of milk in short order. Meanwhile, Harvey turned on the tree lights and got the fireplace going before turning out all the lamps so they could catch sight of the driving snow from their vantage point on the rug.

“Merry Christmas, Mike,” Harvey whispered into the blond’s ear with a grin. While the younger man fired up the _Ace Attorney_ game his boyfriend had given him, the brunet replaced the Santa hat on his own head.

“Merry Christmas, Harvey,” Mike replied as he leaned back into Harvey’s chest. They exchanged a long and satisfying kiss before starting their quest to expose contradictions.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Take a break from recycling wrapping paper and scrubbing dishes for New Year's and enjoy this silly fluff.
> 
> Oh, and just as a disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Super Smash Bros. or the Ace Attorney series, or the rights to the games themselves. I just mentioned them for the sake of fun.


End file.
